


You were my world

by reclusiveq



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anger, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Makeover, Memory Alteration, Minor Character Death, Mood Swings, Overprotective, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-25 00:14:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1622108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reclusiveq/pseuds/reclusiveq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky knows what the museum says about him, but he also knows that he has to remember his past himself. But opening up the past may bring more pain than closure, and he's going to have to deal with the consequences of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

James left the museum with a sense of emptiness. He’d read what the displays had to say about him, but it felt like reading about someone else. Eldest of four? If he had family, he couldn’t remember them now. The only face that stood out clearly was that man’s.

_I’m with you to the end of the line…_

That phrase was so important, and he had no idea why. According to the sign, he and Steve Rogers were childhood friends in the forties. That was about seventy years ago. This whole display just struck him as propagandic nonsense. They made him sound like a hero. He was no hero. He had never had any illusions about that.

Nobody had ever told James that he was a hero. He was a weapon. An asset. A soldier. A killer. He followed orders, never questioning. Until now. 

James wasn’t going to find answers at a museum, among people who only wanted to remember him fondly. He needed concrete information. And he knew just where to find it.

Hydra’s databases were the most thorough he’d ever encountered. He’d never been allowed to access them himself before, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how. There was an abandoned base near here that James knew no one would have found. With both Shield and Hydra out of commission, it wasn’t likely all the bases would ever be found, so James felt no hesitation about going there.

The building was old, brickwork cracked in places. It had been marked as condemned long ago as cover for its true purpose. James stepped past the broken door and picked his way into the back. There was a hidden passageway that was, thankfully, still hidden. That just assured James that this place hadn’t been discovered yet.

He made his way down to the basement. The air was cooler down here. Outside, summer had settled and brought with it a layer of humidity. Down here, the sweat on James’ back gave him a chill. It was a different kind of chill than the ice and snow he’d grown used to. He peeled off his shirt. That helped.

He reached the bottom of the secret passage, but this was the cover within the cover. Just like Hydra, to place a secret lab within a secret lab. He’d been here only once before, about two decades ago. It had been abandoned then as well, but still operational. He’d been sent on a different mission then, and had had to hide here when his arm malfunctioned. There hadn’t been as strong a presence of Hydra in the city at the time, so he’d come here and fixed his own arm enough to get back to his mission.

Those were simpler times, to his current mind. Then, there were no questions. Just orders. Just pain. Just the next mission. He never had doubts then. Now… Now he had flickers of memory of a time before the killing and the pain and the oblivion.

As he entered the lab, his eyes fell on the chair first. He both hated that chair and longed for it. It brought him pain, but sometimes his head hurt so much that the chair brought relief as well. Like the rest of this lab, it was stark grey metal, cold and mechanical. There were no luxuries here. 

_But I knew him…_

He remembered saying those words now. How could he have forgotten that? With difficulty, he looked away from the chair and walked over to the computer. It was an old machine, but just like all of Hydra’s technology, it was more advanced than it’s counterparts of the same time frame.

Getting past the first levels of encryption and security was easy, if slow. His metal arm wasn’t exactly designed for typing. He had to type using only his right hand, which slowed him down even more. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there. He had a vague sense of hunger, but he ignored it.

He finally reached his file and frowned. It was sealed with a high-level encryption, impossible for him to break through. That didn’t surprise him. If what the museum had indicated was true, then James’ file would have to be under lock and key. Every hint of who he was before would have been hidden from everyone but those in the highest ranks. James frowned at the computer. He was good, but no hacker.

Leaning back, he ran a hand through his hair. He knew that trying to break a high-level encryption like this was dangerous. A wrong move and his whole file could be wiped. He had no chance. He could go find someone to do this for him, but somehow he didn’t want anyone else to see.

He heard a noise in the passage and quickly drew his gun, aiming it with ease. He stood and moved away from the computer to a corner where he could observe without being seen. A man stepped in and glanced nervously around. He was bald, but not with age. Sweat beaded up on his skin, making the fresh cuts and bruises stand out even more. It was clear to James that he had recently escaped from a fight.

He was carrying a laptop tightly and his jacket had a pin with the Hydra logo. James stepped out into view, keeping his face carefully neutral and the gun raised, aiming at the Hydra agent. “Identify yourself,” James ordered.

The man looked startled and started shaking, then seemed to calm down as he recognized James. “You’re him. You’re the asset. I’m on your side.” James didn’t back down. No one was on his side.This man seemed to realise that and pointed to himself with a shaking hand. “I’m just a technician. Toby.”

“Technician? You work with computers?”

“A-among other things, yes.”

James waited another moment, then lowered his gun. “You will help me.”

The man - Toby - nodded quickly. “Of course. W-we can still rebuild Hydra.”

James took two quick steps towards Toby and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him forward roughly. “You will help me,” he growled. He shoved him towards the computer. “Break that encryption.”

“This? But…” He didn’t get to protest anymore as James drew his gun again and pressed it against the back of his head.

“Do it and I won’t kill you.”

Toby didn’t say anything else. He nodded again and got to work. Once James was sure he would do as he was told, he lowered the gun and stepped back, standing at ease as he watched. Toby risked a glance back at James, then went back to his job. “Th-this is your file?”

James didn’t answer. Toby swallowed hard and typed faster. James stepped back over as Toby got through the last of the encryptions. “Show me,” he demanded. Toby inched away to give James a better view. 

James’ face was a blank mask as he quickly read through the files, but inside he was reeling. The things Hydra had done to him… What they had forced him to do. He didn’t remember half this stuff. He stepped back and turned his fiercest look at the cowering man. “You wiped my memory,” he accused. 

“No! Not me! I had nothing to do with that! I swear it.”

James sneered at him. This man was a pathetic excuse of a soldier. “I want my memory back.” James advanced on him. “I want it back!”

Toby scrambled to get away, falling over backwards in his chair. “All right! I’ll help you!” 

James stopped. “Is it possible?” His voice was dangerous. “I want it all back. I want to remember everything.”

Toby stayed on the ground, groveling. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “It’s possible to reverse the machine, but I really don’t know what will happen. It could kill you.”

Backing off, James put his gun away. “I don’t care.”

“All right. I’ll help you,” Toby said, sounding defeated.

James looked at the chair. “If you betray me, I will kill you.”

“If… if I help you, you need to offer me asylum with the government.” Toby’s voice carried over to him and James looked back at him. Toby paled. “Just… just I’ll give them any info they need on Hydra. I just want protection. You have to give me that. Promise me.”

James thought about threatening him again, but realised that he would probably be less likely to trick him if James agreed. So he nodded. “I will give you what protection I can.”

Toby swallowed and nodded, standing up finally and walking back over to the computer. “It’ll take me some time to get the algorithm perfected,” he said opening his own computer. James didn’t respond. He walked over to the chair and fingered the restraints.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, before Toby finished. He heard the man clear his throat. “It’s done. This should reverse the process.”

“How?”

“The brain wiping doesn’t actually wipe your memories. It sort of locks them away, in a sense. This algorithm will break those locks in your mind. But you should know… It’s going to break them all. You’re going to remember everything at once. You may not be able to make sense of it all. It could drive you crazy.”

“I don’t care. Do it.”

“I’m going to have to strap you in.”

“No.”

“But s-sir…. if you do go crazy, you could kill me.”

James looked over at him finally. “I could kill you anyway. I won’t be caged anymore. Do it without the restraints.” He grabbed an old mouth guard and stuck it into his mouth, then sat down on the chair. He took several deep breaths, steadying himself for the pain as Toby came around and brought the machine down. 

He started breathing a little faster as Toby went back to the computer. If this went wrong… No, he couldn’t think like that. _I’m with you to the end of the line._ Oddly those words steadied him, brought him reassurance. Somewhere, locked inside his mind, those words made sense. He heard the machine start and braced himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Pain… agonizing and pure. It blinded him. He thought he heard someone screaming, then realised it was his own voice. Images bombarded his mind. Good mixed with the bad. It was impossible to sort it all out. Faces of all the people he’d ever killed… Steve’s face mixed in with theirs, a car falling over a cliff, a blue coat resting in a pool of red and surrounded by white. A child begging. And amongst it all was James feeling nothing and everything all at the same time.

It was a long time before he was able to get his bearings again. He opened his eyes and found himself back in that cold, stark basement room. He suddenly felt naseous. He reached up and shove the machine away from his head. He heard it crack under his metal grip. He stood and reeled away from that chair. He knew what it meant now….

He had welcomed that chair. He had allowed them to take his memories. Anger filled him, anger at himself for allowing that. Why? Why hadn’t he fought? But he knew the reason. He was weak. A memory hit him, of the first time he was in that chair.

_‘Steve will kick your punk asses…’_

_Laughter._

_‘Your friend is dead.’_

_Something was waved at him. A face in the paper. A plane crash. Steve saved New York and died doing so. Pain. He hadn’t protected his best friend. Steve had died alone. Bucky had promised him he’d always be there for him and he had failed. It hadn’t been long after that that he had given up._

Except that Steve wasn’t dead. It had been a lie. Bucky had given up on Steve so easily.

James was reacting on instinct and when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, he reacted instantly, lashing out. There was a cracking of bones and a small cry, then a crash. He looked over to see Toby nursing his side, unable to stand.

Another memory, more recent, came to the forefront of his mind. “The mission had been to kill the father,” James said dangerously. “Kill the father and take the data. But you… you did more than that, didn’t you?”

Toby paled. “I didn’t do anything. It’s your memories. They’re crossed.” He was pleading, but James could tell he was lying. He walked over and grabbed Toby, pulling him up. “Please, you promised to protect me.”

James’ face was ice cold. “I don’t protect men like you.”

“But, but… you’re Captain America’s friend. I saw the files. He would never do this.”

“I may have been his friend once, but don't think that I am him. I am the Winter Soldier. And I show no mercy. That is what you people did to me.”

Toby blubbered and begged, but James had no sympathy for him. He wrapped his metal hand around the man’s throat and squeezed until he felt the man’s neck snap. Toby went still and James tossed the lifeless body aside in disgust. He looked around the lab and felt the ice melt, replaced with a fiery rage.

He grabbed the old computer and threw it against the wall, smashing it to pieces. He ripped apart the chair and kicked over desks. His anger couldn’t be sated as he railed against this lab. He was barely aware of tears stinging his eyes. Eventually, he wore himself out and crashed to his knees. Anger still filled him, but his head was pounding, He reached up and wiped blood from his nose. He had no more strength to fight. 

This, all of it, was his fault. He hadn’t fought back hard enough. He’d let them use him as a weapon because he had lost faith in his best friend… in the only person he’d ever really wanted to live for. More so than his own blood family, James Buchanan Barnes had fought to live for Steve. And when he thought that Steve was dead… Bucky gave up. 

James remembered all the letters he had sent, complaining, in true Bucky fashion, about the guy snoring next to him…. and all the ones he hadn’t sent about how horrible this war was and how he missed Steve’s stupid face. How could he face Steve now, knowing that in the end, Bucky gave in to those they had been fighting all that time?

It was too much for him. His head had not stopped pounding. Surrounded by broken and twisted metal, unable to see anything past the people he’d murdered, he passed out.  
~~~

“This is the fourth Hydra facility we’ve come across like this,” Sam said. The lab was smashed to pieces, any hope of finding information related to what Hydra had done gone. “Do you think Hydra is covering up their mess?”

Steve knelt down and picked up a bit of metal and shook his head. “It doesn’t really feel like them. I think it’s Bucky. Think about it. We’ve been on his trail for a while now. All of these facilities are on the way to New York. I think he’s making his way home.”

“And just…. randomly destroying these places on the way?”

“That might be a good thing. Maybe he’s remembering.” Steve at least hoped he was. He couldn’t begin to fathom what Hydra had done to his best friend. All these years of trying to pick up the pieces of his own disjointed life, and Steve had finally been able to start rebuilding it when all this had happened. 

“Yeah, or maybe he’s back with Hydra and going to start killing again,” Sam cautioned.

“Not Bucky. He wouldn’t willing go back to them. I know him. He could have killed me on that helicarrier.”

“He damn well nearly did. If we hadn’t found you on the shore…”

Steve shook his head. “No,” he said adamantly. He _knew_ Bucky. “Look around you. This wasn’t done in an effort to cover something up. This was done in anger. I know he’s remembering.” He had to be. Steve believed that strongly.

Sam backed down and Steve was grateful. The truth was, he did have doubts… and guilt. Not about Bucky remembering, but about his own actions. He knew trying to find Bucky was the right thing to do, but would Bucky even want to see him? Steve had never gone to look for his friend’s body back during the war. There had been no way Bucky could have survived the fall and the train was too fast. 

Those had been the excuses Steve had told himself at the time, but the truth was, he’d been afraid of seeing Bucky’s body broken and mangled. So he’d thrown himself into destroying Hydra… and he’d failed anyway. Everyone thought they had Steve figured out, including himself. Do right by his country, don’t give in to bullies… But while Steve was out there standing up for others, Bucky had always been standing up for _him_. 

Steve stood and brushed the dust off his pants. “We won’t catch up to him poking around here. Let’s get some food before we hit the road again.”

Sam nodded. Steve was grateful for his presence. Sam was helping to keep him grounded on this goose chase. He’d never told Steve to give it up, only encouraged him to think smart, rather than reckless. It sometimes felt like he had just missed Bucky, and Steve would have gone on until he collapsed if Sam hadn’t been around to remind him to stop.

They stopped for hamburgers. Steve smiled fondly. “I remember… back when the depression hit. Bucky had to quit school for a while and get a job. He did whatever he could. I honestly don’t know half of what he did. He had three younger siblings he was helping to take care of. Both his parents were working too. They barely had enough to feed themselves, but he came over one night with a whole hamburger and shared it with me. Meat was hard to get in those days, but he still wanted to share it. I never asked how he managed to get his hands on it.”

“He always looked out for you?”

“Always. I said before, even when I had nothing, I had him. After my mom died, he wanted me to go stay with him. I told him no, so he ended up moving in with me instead. Not all at once, but he just sort of gradually started staying over and over more, and one day, we just recognized that we were sharing an apartment. He was a good man. He never let me tell him that though. He never believed it.”

Sam smiled. “Good men rarely think they are. They do the right thing, but to them, it’s just instinct. I wish I could have met him before.”

“You two would have gotten along really well,” Steve said with a small chuckle. There was so much that Steve wanted to share about Bucky, but there were no words to describe just how their relationship had been or what Bucky had really been like. He wondered if he would ever see that Bucky again, but it didn’t really matter. Right now, he just wanted Bucky back at all, no matter what form that took. He knew he could help get his Bucky back in time, but for now, at this moment, he just had to see his face again.

Sam reached over and squeezed Steve’s shoulder. “We’ll find him,” he reassured his friend. “I got your back with this. If you think he’s going to New York, why don’t we just head straight there? That’s where you grew up, right?”

‘Yeah, in Brooklyn.”

“Well, he’s a tough guy. I’m sure he’ll make it there. And we’ll be there waiting for him.”

Steve smiled. “Yeah. I think that’s probably best. It’s time to go home.”


	3. Chapter 3

Bucky hadn’t quite made it to Brooklyn. He’d made his way slowly from D.C. toward New York, systematically destroying Hydra bases on the way. But now, just a few hundred miles away from Brooklyn… away from all that he wanted back, he couldn’t move forward.

His headaches had become worse. When he’d started out, they had been few and far between. He’d expected them. Having that many memories shoved into his head all at once was bound to have side effects. He’d figured they would go away as he was able to sort out the memories, but they hadn’t.

His anger hadn’t diminished either. He couldn't tell who he was more angry at - Hydra… or himself. He hated Hydra, but he thought he might hate himself even more. Hydra pulled his strings, but he knew now… Knew how much he had allowed them to. Even after his memory had been wiped, there had been times of doubt. And during those times, he never fought back when they pushed him back into that chair. Over and over and over again.

With his memories back, he thought he'd be able to fight again. To go back to being the man Steve believed he was. But once again, he found himself ready to give up. The pain was constant now. When he tried to sleep, he would wake up in a cold sweat from some nightmare or other. He would sometimes see a stain from where his nose had bled. Now, hidden away in the corner of the latest Hydra facility he had broken, he curled up in a tiny ball and closed his eyes, willing the pain to go away.

He knew this was dangerous. Unlike the other bases, this one wasn’t wholly abandoned. There was no one here now, but it was newer, and kept in a better state than the others. That meant that conceivably, Hydra could show up here at any time. But right now, he didn’t care. He was barely even aware of his surroundings. Curled up and alone, Bucky finally passed out.

He dreamt of a mission in Germany. His first. The target was a high ranking official. The man had been a Nazi, but only in name. He had too much information about Hydra and was threatening to release it. James - he never thought of himself as Bucky in these dream-memories - was already a puppet of Hydra. He’d gone through his first mind wipe and suffered through the injection of other memories. They had taken everything away that defined him except for one thing… his fighting.

He’d been reprogrammed for the first time and this man was his first target. He was killed easy enough, but there had been a witness. James hadn’t been able to kill him. The young man was small and blonde, by all accounts nothing more than a twink for the unlucky ex-Nazi. But he had seen James and James had orders. Kill the man and kill anyone who saw him. 

_‘Who are you?’ The young man asked in German._

_James stared at him without answering._

_The young man was afraid. James lowered his gun. His keepers would be here soon. He had to finish the mission, but he didn’t raise the gun again. Why did this boy make his head hurt? His grip tightened around the gun. The young man reached out to touch him, his hand shaking. ‘Please…’ he begged._

_‘Steve?’ James wasn’t sure where that name came from. The man latched onto._

_‘Yes, please… I can be Steve...’_

_James had knelt down and looked the boy in the eyes, trying to remember. That was when the Hydra agents came in._

_‘You were ordered to kill all witnesses,’ they said. They spoke in Russian, so the young man couldn’t understand them. ‘Kill him now.’_

_James stood and stepped back. ‘...not Steve...’ He raised the gun and fired._

_After that, he had been taken back and stuck in that chair again. ‘He said_ his _name. The wipe didn’t work.’ ‘Then we will try again.’_

And they did. The dreams became chaotic after that, a series of images that he couldn’t begin to make sense of. In his mind, he was screaming, but then he pictured the mask coming forward and being shoved onto his face, silencing him. He tried to lash out, but neither of his arms worked. He startled awake and quickly realised that none of that had been part of the dream. 

His mechanical arm was completely unresponsive. Half a dozen men surrounded him, guns pointed directly at him. From the insignia on their collars, they were Hydra. He was scared, but pulled out all of his winter soldier training to keep his face impassive and unconcerned as he took stock of his situation.

They had put his mask back on him. This wasn’t the mask he’d used recently. It was a different version, that effectively gagged him. Unless he missed his guess, it was locked on with a bio-signature. This was a training mask, designed to prevent the wearer from speaking or eating or any number of other things without their keepers permission. James would not be able to get it off himself.

His other arm had cuffed to his metal arm, which had been disabled. Even with that, if he hadn’t been suffering from the headache, he was sure he could have beaten them all. But that pain was worse than anything he’d ever felt, and it kept him on his knees, head bowed.

Someone walked over and yanked his head up, looking into his eyes. “I think it is a brain hemorrhage. We cannot wipe him again until we repair it.” They spoke in Russian, but of course James understood every word.

“I was under the impression he would heal from anything.” 

“He will, but this would take perhaps years. Perhaps more, perhaps less. It is impossible to tell without a proper examination. We could stick him back on ice, but that would slow the healing process. With the proper facility, I could repair it enough to wipe him. Then we would have to put him back on ice for a while.”

“The nearest facility is in New York. We’ll take him there. You will fix him while I arrange for transport out of the country. Put him under for now. He’s still unstable and I won’t have him drawing attention to us.”

“Yes, sir.”

The last thing James heard before he was knocked out was a muttered “...useless asset…” and at that moment, that’s exactly how he felt. How could he ever hope to start protecting Steve again if he couldn’t even protect himself?

~~~  
Steve paced the floor, feeling anxious, though he didn’t know why. Well, he knew why. He was worried. 

“Dude, you’re going to dig a hole in the floor. Stop.” Sam shook his head. “We knew we were going to get here ahead of him. We just have to keep watching the three labs. Good thing your girl helped us hook into the surveillance feed. Man, Natasha is smart.”

Steve chuckled, despite his worry. “She’s not my girl, but she is smart.” He stopped pacing and came to sit next to Sam. “Nothing on the computer yet?”

“No… wait.” Sam frowned. “Look at that… Five… No, six guys. They’re carrying something.”

Steve’s heart sunk. “Bucky… Which one is that? We need to go now.”

Sam checked the address and pulled it up on the GPS as they ran out. Steve wasn’t sure what they were going to do to Bucky, but he had just gotten him back. He wasn’t going to lose him again.

New York traffic was horrible, even on the motorcycle, but Steve didn’t care. He drove a bit recklessly through the traffic, trusting Sam to keep his seat behind him. Sam shouted the directions at him.

It took too long, but he finally pulled to a stop in front of the lab. A van sat outside the building. Steve couldn’t see anyone keeping watch. He set his jaw angrily. “Let’s go.”

“Be careful. I got your back.” Sam drew his gun and followed after Steve. He quickly realised that Steve was going to be anything but careful. Steve was taking the stairs two at a time. Sam gave a mental curse and ran after him. Steve kicked the doors down, his focus solely on getting to his friend.

As Steve burst through the last door, Sam caught sight of Bucky strapped in what he could only think of as some kind of torture device. Steve went straight for him, and Sam covered. There were more people here than just the six they’d seen on the surveillance camera. Steve took out the ones closest to his friend and Sam focused on the others. 

These weren’t all soldiers. There were a couple wearing lab coats, marking themselves as scientists. Sam just focused on taking down the ones shooting at him and Steve. This was different from the helicarriers. He knew the people here were the bad guys. All he had to do was take one look at what they were doing to the man in the chair to know that.

When Steve kicked the door down, he had expected a lot of things. But he was still not prepared for what he saw. He flashed back to finding Bucky in the lab back during the war, strapped down, muttering his rank and serial number… Seeing Bucky strapped down now, that mask back in place around his mouth, the eyes that were filled with fear… Steve snapped.

He charged in, taking down anyone who got between him and Bucky. This wasn’t the righteous anger stemming from protecting the weak, or standing up to a bully. This was the reckless anger of a man seeing his best friend, his family, _his love_ broken and wanting to hurt the ones who had done it.

It wasn’t until Steve was at Bucky’s side that he stopped. He dropped his shield and grabbed the restraints in his bare hands, ripping them open. As soon as Bucky was free, Steve grabbed him and pulled him close, hugging him tightly. He didn’t really expect his friend to respond, so he was surprised when Bucky suddenly reached his right arm around and hugged him back.

Sam had taken down the last of the Hydra agents and was keeping watch. Steve eventually let go and looked at Bucky. “Let me get that mask off of you.” He reached around, but found it wouldn’t come off. He frowned. “It’s stuck.”

Bucky looked down. Steve looked at him, waiting for him to say something. It clicked. “Is this mask keeping you from speaking?” Bucky nodded slowly. “I know someone who can get it off. I just hope he’s in New York right now. Sam, we’re going to need a ride to Stark Tower.”

Sam nodded. “I’ll get us a cab.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to write Steve seeing what Bucky had gone through, plus with Bucky destroying the labs, he was bound to run into complications.


	4. Chapter 4

Bucky had passed out. Steve was sitting in the back of the cab, holding him. If the cabby had any questions about the scarred man in the mask, he thankfully kept them to himself. Steve brushed Bucky’s hair out of his eyes. Even asleep like this, Bucky looked like he was in pain. Steve wanted so much to take that pain away, but he didn’t know how.

They pulled up to the tower. Sam paid the driver while Steve shook Bucky awake. Bucky startled and Steve caught his good arm before he punched someone. Bucky looked panicked, then calmed when he finally focused on Steve. 

“It’s okay, Bucky. We’re here. Tony is a good man and he’ll help us out. Help you out. Come on.”

Steve got Bucky out of the cab and threw a jacket around him. Bucky’s metal arm wasn’t working either, Steve had noticed, so he hoped Tony could do something about that as well. As for the rest, well, Steve had to focus on things one step at a time. 

He waited for Sam, then they all headed into the tower together. It took some convincing for the security to let them through, especially with Bucky glaring at them past the mask, but Steve finally managed. The elevator ride was spent in silence, but finally they came out onto Tony’s penthouse.

Tony had clearly been expecting them. He had some drinks ready. “Happy said I was going to have some visitors, but this is a surprise, Steve. After the stuff in D.C., I took the liberty of looking up more information. I take it this is the man known as the Winter Soldier?” He looked at Bucky, then over at Sam. “You, I don’t know.”

“Sam Wilson. Just helping Steve out.”

“Well, you’re lucky to have caught me here. I was going to take some time off and head to L.A.” He walked over and circled Bucky, eying first the mask, then catching sight of the metal arm. “Well, now. I’m almost impressed. Are you mute?”

Steve frowned and narrowed his eyes at Tony. “The mask won’t come off. It’s… muzzling him, somehow. And his arm isn’t working either.”

“The metal one, I assume you mean. His other arm looks like it’s holding your hand perfectly fine.”

Steve blinked and looked down. He hadn’t noticed, but Bucky had gripped his hand, squeezing it tightly. Steve remembered that gesture. Bucky never showed fear the way most people did. When they were kids, if Bucky was afraid, he would never show it, but instead, he would take Steve’s hand. Later, as they grew up and realised that that gesture could cause problems, Bucky had found other ways to deal with it. Most of them had involved some sort of contact with Steve.

Steve remembered Bucky the day he’d told him that he was shipping out for Europe. There had been a look on his face then, quickly replaced by the cocksure attitude he almost always wore. The arm he’d slung around Steve. Steve hadn't realised it at the time, too focused on his own self-pity at not being allowed to go, but Bucky had been scared then too.

As if embarrassed that he’d been caught, Bucky quickly let go. Steve was slightly disappointed, but didn’t push it. “Can you help, Tony?”

“It’ll take me…”Tony eyed Bucky over. “Maybe an hour for the mask. I’ll have to examine the arm more closely.”

“Well, start with the mask. Bucky needs to eat.”

:All right. Let me get my stuff. It’s locked by a bio-signature, but there’s always an override built in. Has to be.” Tony walked out, leaving them alone. Steve looked at Sam, who had taken a seat at the bar, then looked back at Bucky. 

“Are you feeling all right?”

Bucky nodded, but Steve could see a hint of pain behind Bucky’s eyes that he was trying to hide. “Come on. Sit down. You’ll have that off soon. I’m not going to leave you.”

Bucky couldn’t meet his gaze. Steve grabbed his hands as Bucky closed his eyes. He doubled over, shaking, and Steve thought at first that Bucky was shaking with relief. He frowned when he realised it was more than that. Bucky was in pain. He’d taken his hands back and was holding his head. Steve bent over to look and saw a bit of blood coming from his nose. “Sam!” 

Sam hurried over and helped Steve hold Bucky until he stopped shaking. Bucky had passed out. Steve looked at Sam. “What was that?”

“Looked like a mild seizure or just an intense headache. Steve, we don’t know what he’s really been through. Only he can tell us. We need to get the mask off. Then we can find out the rest.”

Tony came back in then. “Is he okay?”

“No,” Steve said simply. “He’s anything but. Get the mask off. Please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely. Sit him up.”

Tony worked quickly and the mask fell away. Steve shifted Bucky so his head was resting in his lap and touched Bucky’s cheek. “He looks like he’s still in pain. I wish I could do something.”

Sam squeezed his shoulder as Tony picked up the mask. “I’d offer a pain killer,” Tony said. “But without knowing whether he suffered a seizure or a migraine… Well, we’ll know soon enough. I’ve had Jarvis scanning him. Should be done about…”

“Sir?” Jarvis’ mechanical voice came out over the intercom.

“Now. Yeah, Jarvis. Lay it on us.”

“I scanned the young man. He seems to have a brain hemorrhage, but it is healing itself. His brain has recently had a bit of a nasty shock. It’s overloaded.”

Steve took a deep breath. “But he’s healing?”

“Yes. It’s very slow however. At its current rate, I calculate his recovery to be six months.”

Jarvis started recommending a suitable painkiller, but Steve had tuned him out. Six months of this? He knew it could be worse, but still… six months seemed like a long time. He closed his eyes, seeking strength.

He felt Bucky stir and opened his eyes again. “St-steve?” Bucky blinked up at him, reaching up to massage his jaw. Steve smiled back at him.

“Yeah, it’s me. You remember me?”

Bucky sat up. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “How did you find me?”

“I’ve been tracking you since D.C. We… found your handiwork along the way and guessed you were coming to New York. Looks like we guessed right.”

“You saw…” There was no question. Just a quiet resignation.

Steve wanted to give him a reassuring touch, but held back. “Yeah. What was that thing they had you in?”

Bucky looked at his hands, unable to answer for a moment. They were oddly steady, betraying nothing of the turmoil inside of him. But that was how he’d always been. Don’t show emotions. Men had to be strong for their girls. Steve had been the only one ever able to read Bucky despite that. Just like Bucky had always been there for Steve to help fight his fights, Steve had always known when Bucky was afraid or feeling vulnerable and had been there for him. Just like he was now. 

He realised he couldn’t answer Steve’s question. At least not completely. Not yet. “It’s just the thing that they used to wipe my memories. My arm isn’t working.”

“Yeah,” Tony came back over, leaving the mask on the bar counter. “About that. I can get it to work, but I’ll need to examine it.”

Bucky frowned at him. “Who’re you?”

“Tony Stark. You may have heard of me.”

“Stark.” That name sounded familiar, but it was lost in the myriad of memories rolling around his head. He didn’t dare poke at that right now. “Maybe.”

“Do you remember Howard Stark?” Steve asked gently, letting his original question go. 

Bucky frowned, thinking. He had to close his eyes for a moment as he careful tugged at that memory. “The World Expo. He was showing the flying car.”

“That’s right. This is his son.”

“Oh.” Bucky looked at Tony again. “Your dad never got that car to work. You any better?”

Steve choked back a laugh as Tony scoffed. “I’m much better than my old man.” He sat down and grabbed Bucky’s arm, perhaps a little roughly. Steve winced, but Bucky had control of his actions for the moment.

Tony poked at a few things on the arm, then smirked. “Easy.” Steve couldn’t really follow what he was doing, but a few seconds later, Bucky was able to open and close his fist. “See? Much better,” he said, standing. “I’d like a closer look at that arm some time. Could probably make a few improvements.”

Bucky had his hand on Steve’s knee. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

“Suit yourself. Steve, I’m sure you want some alone time with your boyfriend. I’ll be in my lab, dissecting this mask.”

Steve looked irritated. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Sure.” Tony walked out as Bucky took his hand off of Steve’s knee.

Sam stood up as well. “I’m going to head back to the hotel. You two have some talking to do. Meet me back there when you’re ready.”

“Thanks, Sam. For everything. We’ll meet you back there.”

Sam nodded and stepped out, leaving Bucky and Steve alone.


	5. Chapter 5

They sat in silence for a while, neither one really knowing what to say to the other. Steve finally stood and walked to the fridge. “You’re probably hungry. Let me see what he has in here.”

Bucky didn’t really have the heart to tell him he had no appetite. He followed him over and sat at the bar without speaking for a moment. “I thought… I mean, they told me you’d died. Back then. I… I remember them showing me a paper.”

“I’m sorry. After you fell… I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was reckless. Fought Schmidt on my own and crashed the plane. To be honest, I thought I was dead too, until I woke up, seventy years later. What happened to you after the helicarriers?”

Bucky sighed. Steve had found some stuff to make sandwiches and was throwing a couple together. Bucky watched Steve’s hands work. “Those words you said… ‘I’m with you to the end of the line.’ I remembered them, but I wasn’t sure why. So I went to find out. You gave me my name. It wasn’t hard to find the stuff in the museum. But it didn’t make me remember. So…” Bucky paused. “I found a way to force the memories back.”

“Force?” Steve stopped, looking at him with concern. Bucky met his gaze, then looked away. 

“It didn’t go as planned. I wasn’t about to sit here and hope for the memories to come back. I knew you, but I didn’t know how and I needed to.”

“You could have asked…”

“No. I couldn’t. I don’t expect you to understand. I had to find myself by myself.”

Steve stopped pressing. “How much do you remember?”

“All of it. Everything. All at the same time. I can’t… It’s hard to make sense of it all. Some memories are clearer than others, but most of them are just all jumbled together. When I try…”

“You get headaches?”

Bucky snorted. “That’s a mild way of putting it.”

“Jarvis said…”

“Who’s Jarvis?” Bucky was confused. It was hard enough to remember his own stuff. 

Steve paused. “He’s… Well, a computer. Sort of.”

That didn’t help Bucky’s confusion. He closed his eyes to process. “Sort of?”

“Tony calls him artificial intelligence. Like a computer, only smarter. Anyway, Tony had Jarvis scan you. He said there was damage to your brain, but that you would heal. It’ll just take time.”

“So the headaches will go away?”

“Yeah, eventually. At least, that’s what we were told.”

Bucky took a deep breath and nodded. He fidgeted with his hands, rubbing his flesh hand on his pants, then putting both hands in his lap. He started to rub his hands together, then stopped and placed them back on the counter. 

Steve finished the sandwiches and grabbed a couple glasses of water, then sat down next to his friend. “Here, eat.”

Bucky poked at his sandwich, then picked it up and nibbled at it. He was more hungry than he’d thought and wolfed it down the rest of the way. Steve smiled. “Do you want another?”

“I… No. I’m good.”

“You sure? Tony won’t mind. I can make you another.”

“Really, Steve. I’m fine. Well, as fine as I can be.” He pushed his plate back. “So what now?”

Steve blinked at him. “I’m going to take you home and take care of you,” he said, as though it should have been obvious.

“Well, sure. Until I heal, but then what?”

“Then, whatever you want. You could go back to school, or get a job...” Steve’s tone was hopeful.

Bucky touched his metal arm and laughed bitterly. “No, I can’t. Not after…. everything.”

“We’ll figure it out. After you heal. One step at a time.” Steve reached over and placed his hand on Bucky’s. Bucky didn’t pull away. He was finding he liked it when Steve touched him, but his guilt was creeping back in too. He’d managed to push it away, but Steve was trying so hard… _so hard…_ to save him and a part of Bucky didn’t want to be saved. 

“Hydra is still out there,” he said instead. “You saw that. I can fight too.”

“No.” Steve said it so sharply, it made Bucky look up. “Absolutely not.”

Bucky frowned and now he did pull away. He stood up and faced Steve. “What?”

“I can’t ask that, Bucky. The last time I asked you to follow me into a battle, you died.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Well, I thought you did,” Steve snapped. “As it turns out, what happened was even worse. They stole your memories… made you do things.”

“No… I let them take my memories,” Bucky said, then immediately wished he hadn’t. The look on Steve’s face ate at Bucky’s heart. 

“You what?”

Bucky couldn’t look at him anymore. He turned away. “They told me you were dead. I saw the paper. And I… I gave up. Without you, I had nothing to fight for.”

“Your family…” Steve’s voice was tinged with anger.

Bucky whirled back around and met Steve’s anger with his own. “I didn’t love them, Steve! Not like I loved you. You were my world! And then you were gone and I gave in to them. I stopped fighting. I couldn’t live without you.”

Steve rocked back on his heels. Bucky could feel the tears in his eyes. “You never said…”

“How could I? Do you think I wanted to ruin your life? And then you became so caught up in the war and you kept trying to enlist and you wouldn’t listen to reason and I got drafted instead and all I could think was at least it wasn’t you going to die!”

Steve looked like he couldn’t process what was being said. “Drafted… I thought you….”

“Of course I told you I enlisted. After all your speeches about laying down your life, do you honestly think I wanted to tell my best friend and the man I loved that I was forced into it?” Bucky was shaking, his arms wrapped around himself, trying to fight back the fear that he was pushing Steve further away. His head was beginning to hurt again. He fought against that as well.

Steve hadn’t moved since that outburst. Bucky finally dared to look at him. He could see warring emotions on Steve’s face. Anger, shock, guilt, pity. Bucky gritted his teeth and lowered his arms. The last thing he needed was pity from Steve Rogers. Bucky pushed himself forward and grabbed Steve’s arms, pushing him back against the bar and kissing him with all of the anger and frustration, fear and passion that he felt in that moment. He needed to touch Steve. Needed to feel that he was really here, that this wasn’t some vivid dream or hallucination he was having.

Steve didn’t respond at first, then he gently pushed Bucky away. Bucky quickly hid his crushed emotions behind the soldier mask. “Not like this,” Steve said. “You’ve been through a lot…” He tried to touch Bucky’s shoulder, but Bucky backed away. 

“It’s fine,” he said, setting his jaw. “You’re probably right. We should get back to whatever hotel room you guys are staying at.”

“Bucky…”

“Just... don’t mention it. I’m tired.” Bucky gave him a small smile, trying to play it off. “Could we pick up some milk on the way?”

 

Steve had the distinct impression that he’d somehow said the wrong thing to Bucky. Bucky’s confession had startled him. Well, romance of any sort tended to do that anyway. He never really knew how to respond to this sort of thing.

Once again, it seemed like he’d gotten it wrong. In this case, though, he’d wanted to get it right. He felt the same way as Bucky. But at the same time, Bucky was in a very vulnerable state. How could Steve possibly take advantage of that. He hadn’t wanted to just kiss Bucky right then. If Bucky had been more aware, he probably would have noticed that Steve had wanted very much to go further than just the kiss. 

But not like this. He gave an inward sigh as they pulled up to the hotel. Bucky followed him inside the room and went straight to the bathroom, walking past Sam wordlessly. He shut the bathroom door a little harder than necessary. 

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Should I ask?”

“Probably not.” Steve sat down and rubbed his eyes. “We had an argument. It didn’t end well.”

“About what?”

Steve shook his head. “He wants to keep attacking Hydra. I told him no.”

“No?” Sam looked at him incredulously. In the bathroom, the shower had been turned on. “You told him no?”

“Sam, you know what he’s been through. Nothing good is going to come from him going out to get revenge. With those headaches, he’s only going to get himself hurt.”

Sam shook his head. “I see where you’re coming from, man, but you gotta look at it from his point of view. Did you ask him why he wanted to go after Hydra?”

“Well no, but I could guess.”

“Yeah, you could, but you’d only be guessing half the truth. Best thing for you to do is to just shut up and listen to him. I’d guess he hasn’t had a lot of that in his life.”

Steve sighed. “You’re right. Well, if he starts talking to me again, I’ll listen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an emotional chapter to write, but I was on a roll today. Weekends are great for writing. Unfortunately it's back to work tomorrow, so updates will be slower a bit.
> 
> They were so close in this fic too... but, well, boy scout Steve would never take advantage (he really should have....) and he doesn't know how to react to romantic advances.


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky woke alone, shaken from his latest nightmare. His flesh hand trembled as he reached for the bottle next to his bed. His hand grabbed at air and he blinked and looked over. He’d knocked over the nightstand and the lamp. The pills from the bottle had spilled all over the floor. He didn’t move for a minute. The room was silent. He heard no movement from the other rooms either. 

About a week after his rescue, the three of them had found a small short-term apartment. Sam was sticking around since he knew how to deal with trauma. This was just a two bedroom apartment, but they had made it work.

Bucky sat up and swung his legs to the floor. The rug was scratchy under his feet. Whoever had rented this place before them hadn’t taken very good care of it, and the landlord had done as little as possible to clean it up. Some things never changed.

Leaving the nightstand and the pills where they were, Bucky stepped into the bathroom. The silence of the apartment was almost deafening. Steve was gone. This wasn’t surprising itself, especially after their last fight. Steve would often take late-night runs to cool his head. But Bucky didn’t really like the quiet. 

He turned on the bathroom light and blinked at the brightness. It hurt his eyes until they adjusted. His reflection glared back at him from the dirty mirror. He was only wearing a pair of boxers, so he could clearly see where flesh met metal, tugging the skin out of shape, scarring it… Oddly that was the only visible scar, except for the ones he’d gained as a child. The serum they’d injected him with had prevented any other scarring.

He was forcing himself to look at his reflection - to see what he had become. He held up his metal hand, flexing it. Their last argument had sort of been about this…

_"You can do anything you want, Bucky. You don’t have to fight. You could get a job or… or go back to school….”_

_“No, I can’t. I’m a soldier. It’s all I know how to do.”_

_“So you can learn something else. You were always smart.”_

_“Steve, look at me. I’m a genetically engineered super soldier, just like you. I can’t just go… get a job at the local grocer. Fighting is all I was ever trained for.”_

_“But you could learn to do anything. Why do you want to fight so bad?”_

_“I can’t believe you of all people are asking me that.” Bucky had waved his metal hand aggressively in Steve’s face. “They did this to me. They are still out there and I will_ not _let them do this to anyone else.”_

_“They’ve already been taken down, Bucky. Hydra can’t recover from this.”_

_“You don’t know them like I do. I was their puppet. If even one of them survives, they’ll build themselves back up again.”_

Steve hadn’t said anything to that. He’d actually just sat in silence, then changed the subject. Bucky knew exactly what Steve was afraid of. He didn’t want to lose Bucky again. All Bucky could think was that Steve was denying him the two things Bucky wanted most in the world: revenge and Steve himself.

There was a knock at the door and Bucky jumped a bit. “Bucky?” That was Sam’s voice. Bucky relaxed. 

“I’ll be out in a minute.” He washed his hands, then stepped out, nodding at the younger man. “Sorry.”

“No apologies. You feeling okay?”

“Yeah.”

Sam stepped into the bathroom, then turned and looked back at Bucky. “You know, if you ever want to talk, I’m here. I won’t judge. I know you and Steve haven’t really been able to talk. So if you need an open ear, just ask. Or don’t. Just start talking.”

Bucky simply nodded, but he did feel grateful. Maybe Sam would understand better than Steve. He was halfway back to his own room, then stopped and walked back to the bathroom. As Sam came out, Bucky started venting.

“It’s just that he’s got this idea that he has to take charge. Like I don’t know I’m fucked up and I might snap at any moment. I know that. It’s been a month and I still wake up from these fucking nightmares and it’s like I’m actually there and I feel like the only thing I can do to make it stop is to keep fighting, but there’s nothing to fight anymore, except for Hydra.” He was aware he was barely pausing to take a breath between sentences as he paced in front of Sam. Sam stood in the doorway, not judging, not urging them to go sit down, just listening. “Only Steve doesn’t want me to go after them. He thinks I’ll get better sitting on my ass until the headaches go away. Six months! I’m not sitting on my ass for six months until I’m healed. And I can’t do a normal job like he wants me to do because all it would take is one trigger and suddenly I’ve hurt someone. I know that, god, do I know that. It’s practically all I think about most days. It’s not like I don’t have a fucking metal arm to remind me every day of the shit that I’ve done.”

He drew a knife and started flipping it through his fingers as he paced. “And yeah, I’ve got good days and bad days, but I’m not fragile. I’m not made of glass. And I… I’ve got to undo the mess I made. That’s my responsibility. I can’t be the normal person he wants me to be. Not when all I see is Hydra and that damn chair. And some days…” Here he paused for a long moment. “Sometimes I wish I hadn’t gotten my memory back,” he admitted. It was something he hadn’t even admitted to himself. “Things were clear before. Now… all I feel is overwhelming guilt and Steve isn’t helping because not only do I feel guilty for all the people I’ve butchered, but now I’ve also got to feel guilty that I can’t go back to being the good old Bucky Barnes he wants me to be.”

Bucky stopped, realising just how much he’d said. He hadn’t meant to go that far, but once he had started, he hadn’t been able to stop. Sam hadn’t interrupted once. Now, he placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I get it. Maybe not all of it, but I get it. You can’t go back to the past. You’ve got a mountain of issues you have to deal with and you’re dealing with it alone, cause you feel like Steve’s not there for you.”

Bucky was surprised. It was simplified, but that was pretty much exactly how he was feeling. Sam smiled at him. “Steve’s pretty stubborn, but you’re not alone. Maybe no one went through the exact same thing as you, but there are ways to deal with guilt and one way is to place blame where it belongs.”

“Hydra,” Bucky hissed.

“Yeah. But I can tell you from experience that going after them isn’t going to satisfy you.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, but Sam raised his hands placatingly. 

“Once you start down that road, it’s very hard to stop. And when you finish with them, what then? I’m not saying don’t stop the bad guys. What I’m suggesting is figuring out what’s the best way to use your skills for good. I can’t answer that for you. But you should think about it. Don’t let anyone else tell you what you should be doing. The only one that can figure that out for you is you. But I can tell you that revenge isn’t going to make you feel better.”

Bucky stopped pacing and leaned against the wall. He felt worn out, as if he’d just fought a hard battle, and took a shaky breath. “What could I possibly do that isn’t fighting?”

“You could use your experiences and skills to help others in need. Hydra’s not the only big bad out there. You can volunteer. Hell, go visit some veterans. Just don’t lock yourself away like you’ve been doing.”

“And Steve…”

“I’ll talk to him, but I think he’ll understand. You’re both just pig-headed.”

Bucky took a deep breath and nodded. He didn’t say thank you, but he was grateful. He turned and went back to his room, at least some of the weight on his shoulders lifted.

~~~  
Steve came in and found Sam waiting for him. He raised an eyebrow. “Is Bucky okay?”

“No. And frankly, neither are you. You two have been a pain in the ass for the past month. Now I get that some of that is from you being worried about your friend, but I wouldn’t be your friend if I didn’t tell you when you are being ridiculous.”

Steve sighed and sat down. “I know I am. I just can’t lose him again.”

“Well you’re going to if you keep doing this.” Sam gave him a look that Steve couldn’t meet. “He’s struggling to sort out his own issues and find a place for himself. I know you’re not trying to keep him locked up, but that’s how he feels. You can’t keep him out of the fight.”

“He never wanted to fight. He told me as much.”

“Maybe not. But if it’s what he wants now, will you really try to stop him? Or will you be there to watch his back?”

“You know I’ll watch his back…”

“Yeah. I know that. But I’m not the one who needs to hear it right now. You are the only real friend he’s got right now. He needs you to be there for him.”

“Okay. I’ll go talk to him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to finish. Yay for Sam being there to help them reconnect.


	7. Chapter 7

Steve knocked on Bucky’s door, then pushed it open. “Can we talk?”

Bucky whirled, tense. Steve caught the flash of metal that disappeared almost as quickly. It wasn’t the first time Steve had seen that knife come out. Bucky was standing on the near side of the bed and Steve frowned, seeing the half-packed bag. "What are you doing?” he demanded, angry.

Bucky turned and looked at the bag. “I thought I could do this. Go back to being the man you wanted me to be. But I realised something tonight. I can’t. You want me to sit around, safe and sound, never even risking getting hurt and I can’t do that.”

“So you’re just going to go back to hunting down Hydra…” Steve took two quick steps and grabbed Bucky’s arm, pulling him around. The sudden gesture made Bucky turn defensive and he punched Steve in the stomach as he turned, knocking the blonde man backwards into the wall. It left a small dent, but Bucky hadn’t attacked with his full strength. Steve watched Bucky grow pale, but the ex-assassin stood his ground. 

“I never said I was going to go back to hunting them down.”

“Then what? Whatever you need, Bucky. That’s what I came to tell you.”Steve knew he was pleading a little. “I know I’ve been protective lately. Whatever you need, I can watch your back.”

“Can you really? I know you think you can, but what happens when things get tough. Besides, I can’t… I can’t be under the same roof as you. Not anymore.”

“Why not?” Steve took a careful step forward.

“Because every time I look at you, all I can think of his how I feel about you. And how you don’t feel the same way back.”

“Christ, that’s what this is all about, Bucky?” Bucky’s eyes narrowed and Steve felt his heart skip. He couldn’t lose Bucky again. “Bucky, I told you to wait because I didn’t want to take advantage of you. You were in an emotional state…” He trailed off, feeling desperate.

“An emotional state?” Bucky asked incredulously. “That’s your excuse? Bite me, Rogers.” He spun away from Steve again.

Steve swallowed and made a decision. Another stride and he grabbed Bucky again. Spinning him around, he kissed him forcefully, then pushed him back onto the bed. “Jerk.” Steve was crying. “How could you think I could live without you? I lost you before and it killed me. I felt dead inside. How can you possibly think I don’t love you just as much as you love me?”

Bucky stared up at him, wide-eyed. “You never said…”

“I’ve loved you a long time. I never thought you felt the same way. You were always chasing dames…”

“I was using them as an excuse to go out with you, punk.” Steve was surprised Bucky was remembered that, but his eyes were clear and sure. “How would it have looked if I just straight up asked you out on a date. Why do you think I always tried to set up a double-date? How about those times I gave up a date because you didn’t want to go or were too sick?”

Steve was stunned. He was lying half on top of Bucky and was just staring down at him. “Buck…”

“Would you just shut up and kiss me again?”

When Steve didn’t move, Bucky grabbed his head and pulled it in close. “I said, kiss me, punk.” Without waiting, Bucky kissed Steve and Steve responded. Part of him still wanted to hold back, still argued that neither of them were in a good state for this. With effort he pushed that thought away. He could deal with the guilt later. Right now, all he wanted was to feel Bucky squirm under him.

Steve groaned as Bucky rolled them over, knocking the bag to the floor. Neither of them paid it any mind, too caught up in the moment. Steve’s hands pushed down their pants and he groaned as they made contact. Bucky growled and rutted against him, pushing Steve’s legs apart with his knees.

He sucked his fingers for a moment, then roughly pushed one into Steve. “Fuck me, Bucky,” he growled in his ear.

It was rough. It was perfect. When they finished, Bucky looked into Steve’s eyes, wary. Steve touched his cheek and pulled him close. “Don’t ever leave me,” Steve begged. 

“I won’t,” Bucky whispered.

~~~  
Steve woke alone. He had a moment of panic as he sat up. Bucky’s side of the bed was cold, as if he hadn’t been there for a few hours. How had Steve slept through him getting up? Steve’s eyes scanned the room and noticed that Bucky’s bag was missing. The panic worsened and he hurriedly got to his feet and ran to the living room. 

Bucky was sitting on the couch, listening to a CD and flipping a knife around. The gesture was painfully familiar. Bucky had always had a habit of fidgeting when he was bored or nervous. Relieved that Bucky was still here, Steve leaned against the wall and watched him quietly for a moment. 

The radio was playing a song by Martin Gaye, clearly something recommended by Sam, but Bucky didn’t look like he cared too much for it. It was a little too soft for him, Steve guessed. Even back in the thirties and forties, Bucky had preferred livelier music. He remembered the first time Bucky had taken him out dancing. It had been a double date with a pair of twins. Bucky had avoided dancing to all the slow songs, but he’d had a blast with the faster ones.

Stepping forward, Steve moved to sit next to Bucky on the couch. Bucky barely batted an eye. Sam was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. Steve could smell the aroma of bacon in the air. Steve thought about telling Bucky that he’d been worried, then decided not to. “How long have you been up?” He asked instead.

“A few hours,” Bucky answered. There was a pause, then he continued. “It was too hot.”

Steve glanced over at him, questioningly. Bucky just shrugged. “I’m used to sleeping in a freezer.”

“It’s been more than a month since you were last frozen though.” Steve found the worry coming back. He just wanted Bucky to be better already. He knew it was going to take time, but still…

Bucky shrugged again and dropped the subject. Neither of them were mentioning last night. Steve wondered if Bucky was regretting it. He was still flipping the knife around. “I want to go out today. I want you to take me somewhere.”

“Where?”

“I don’t care. I’ve been stuck inside and I can’t take it anymore.”

“Okay,” Steve said. He reached over and placed his hand over Bucky’s metal one. Bucky glanced down and stopped flipping the knife. Setting it down, he reached over and picked up Steve’s hand with his real one. Steve was surprised by how warm it really was. He’d never really stopped to think about it. It was warmer than his own hand. 

“How about Coney Island?”

Bucky closed his eyes and a painful looked crossed his face. Steve worried for a minute, then realised that Bucky was trying to pull out that memory. He squeezed Bucky’s hand. When Bucky opened his eyes, a ghost of a smile was playing on his lips. “Okay. I remember that… at least a little.”

“We only went once,” Steve said. “And I threw up.” The smile left Bucky’s face and Steve hurriedly added, “But we still had fun. Because we were together.”

“I feel like I’m forgetting something else about Coney Island.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll come to you. You don’t have to force it. I know you get headaches trying to remember the details.”

“The pain is nice sometimes,” Bucky admitted. Steve had no idea what to say to that, so he said nothing.

Sam came out with breakfast and Bucky took his hand back. “Here. Glad to see you two are talking again.”

“Thanks to you,” Steve said. “Really, you’ve been a huge help.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere, but I’ll give you all the private time you guys need. It’s still a long way to recovery for you both, but you’ve started off well.”

 

They arrived at Coney Island in the late morning. It was a lot more packed than Bucky remembered. People meandered along, looking at the shops. Overhead, Bucky heard the screams of entertained guests as they whipped around on a new roller coaster. A part of Bucly thought it looked fun, but a stronger part was shaken by the screams, echoing in his head and reminding him of the screams of all the people he’d killed.

His metal hand was clamped around Steve’s in a death grip as they walked. Bucky tried to tune out the screams and focus on other things. “What is that?” He pulled Steve over to a food stall. Tiny round pastel spheres sat in tubs. It was kept cold, and Bucky wondered what kind of ice cream looked as if it had curdled. 

Steve chuckled. “It’s called Dippin’ Dots. It’s ice cream, sort of.”

“How’s it made?”

Steve had almost forgotten about Bucky’s natural curiosity. It didn’t manifest itself often, even back when they were kids, but he’d always been into new things. It’s why he’d liked the World Expo so much. Stark had always had the best ideas. 

“I’m not entirely sure, but we can look it up later. I’ll buy you some, if you let me have my hand back.”

Bucky’s cheeks coloured and he forced his metal hand to unclamp. It was highly tuned to his nerves, so it took a considerable effort to relax them enough to free Steve. Steve bought them both a small servings of the ice cream dots. Bucky rolled them around in his mouth, tasting the flavor. Strawberry - his favorite, he remembered. The sensation was enough to distract him for a moment.

“Do you want to go on one of the rides?” Steve asked casually. Bucky glanced at the roller coaster, at the straps holding the people in securely. The screams came back full force, mixed, this time, with images of the chair he’d been forced to endure. He wasn’t aware he’d dropped his ice cream, or that he was hyperventilating, until Steve suddenly grabbed him and pulled him around the side of a building. 

Steve hadn’t really been thinking about it when he’d asked. He was hoping to get Bucky to have some fun. But he felt more than saw Bucky suddenly tense up. Turning, he saw the panicked look in his friend’s eyes and cursed his own stupidity. He remembered the chair that Bucky had been strapped to when he’d found him. Of course a ride like this would remind him of that.

Bucky was having a major panic attack and Steve knew he had to act quickly before it got worse. Distract him. This wasn’t a full blown PTSD attack, at least Steve hoped not. He pulled him out of sight of the roller coaster.

“Bucky? Bucky, listen to me.” Steve tried to keep his own voice calm, but it was hard. Despite everything that Bucky had been through, the last month had been relatively easy. Sam had warned him, hell Steve had experienced some of this himself, but Bucky had seemed to be okay, and Steve had hoped…

But he could see that wasn’t true now. “Bucky, focus on my voice. You aren’t there. You’re safe.”

His words weren’t getting through. It was probably a bad decision, but Steve leaned in and kissed Bucky, wrapping his arms around him. Bucky didn’t respond at first, then Steve felt his arms slip around Steve’s waist and suddenly Bucky was kissing him back, almost desperately, needing something solid to cling to.

Steve let Bucky break the hold after a long, intense moment. Steve didn’t normally care for public displays of affection, but Bucky was worth it. He could worry about the embarrassment later. “You back with me, Buck?”

Bucky took a slow, deep breath and nodded. “Y-yeah. But I think we should go now.”

“Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, finally some sexy times, but there's still a long road of recovery ahead for both of them. I'm terrible at smut, so I had my roommate help me a bit with it.


	8. Chapter 8

It was Bucky’s turn to wake alone the next day. He saw Steve’s phone blinking lazily at him from the bedside table. He ignored it at first, rolling over and staring at the window. It was still early, the room barely lit up by the dawn light. Had Steve gone out running? Bucky didn’t know if he usually took his phone with him. Closing his eyes, he let himself remember yesterday.

Aside from the meltdown he’d had in the middle of the park, he’d had fun. after they’d left the park, they’d gone to a quiet hamburger joint nestled away in an older part of Brooklyn. Bucky had been grateful for the quiet atmosphere and by the time they made it home, he was feeling about as normal as he could hope to be.

He rolled back over and picked up the phone. Looked like Steve had been talking to Natasha.

_Need your help with something._

_Something bad?_

_Could be dangerous. Bring Sam, if you want._

Bucky knew who Natasha was, both from what he’d learned as the Winter Soldier and from what Sam and Steve had told him. If he had to admit, he was a little jealous. He was being kept to the sidelines. 

He got up and went to the bathroom, forcing himself to look at his reflection. Strands of black hair hung in his face, almost hiding his haunted dark eyes. It felt like he wasn’t looking at himself, but at someone else. The face that stared back at him was the face of a killer. This wasn’t him.

He pulled himself away and went back to the bedroom. He didn’t want to look like the Winter Soldier, but he couldn’t go back to looking like the old Bucky either. He grabbed Steve’s phone and started flipping through the contacts until he found the one he needed. Pressing the call button, he waited.

“Tony’s phone. This is Pepper speaking.”

Bucky hesitated, confused. “Uh… Pepper?”

“Yes, who’s this?”

“Uhm, Buck… James Barnes. A friend of Steve’s…”

“Oh! Bucky! Tony told me a bit about you.”

“He did?” Bucky shook his head, to clear it and focus. “Uh, I know this is out of the blue, but is Tony available?”

“He’s in his workshop. Is your arm okay?”

Bucky didn’t ask how she knew about the arm. “Uh, yeah. I just… I don’t really know how to ask this, but Steve and Sam are both out and I… I guess I need a hair cut and some other stuff and I’m not really sure where to start. I mean, I know barbers do that, but… it’s more complicated.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “Tell you what. Why don’t you catch a cab to Stark Tower? I’ll talk to Tony while you head over here.”

“Okay.” He hung up the phone, then pulled out some clothes. His own wardrobe was very sparse, consisting of plain t-shirts and jeans that were just a bit too big. He shoved the baseball cap onto his head after dressing, then hurried down to catch a cab.

 

About an hour later, he was sitting in Tony’s living room, hands wrapped around a glass of water. Tony came in and immediately poured himself a glass of scotch. Bucky looked at his own water, then back at the alcohol. 

“Do you want some,” Tony asked. There was a cockiness to his speech, even in such a simple question, that reminded Bucky sharply of Howard.

“Sure.”

“So Pepper tells me you’re looking for a makeover.”

“A what?” Bucky looked confused as Tony walked over and held out a glass. Bucky set the water down and took the scotch. 

“Makeover. A new look. Haircut. Hopefully a new wardrobe. Could probably teach you how to do your makeup better.”

Bucky choked on his drink. “Make up?”

“Relax, robocop. Nothing wrong with a little bit of dressing up. I can help you, but I want a better look at that arm of yours. Nothing you won’t be comfortable with,” he added quickly, seeing Bucky tense. “When I fixed it before, it was easy to undo what they did. But that arm… I tried to replicate what they did and I can’t. Apparently it’s a lot more complicated that I thought.”

“Why would you replicate this thing?”

“It’s what I do. I make things and I figure out how things work and then I make them better. Could even give you a tour around my shop later. Steve mentioned you liked the things my dad used to build.”

Bucky glanced at Tony. There was a sharp bitterness there, under the cocksure attitude. “I think I just loved seeing new things.”

“Well then. You let me take a look at that arm, and I’ll help you out.”

Bucky took a deep breath. He hadn’t left a note for Steve. Hopefully this wouldn’t take too long. “Okay. Deal.”

Tony smiled and got up. “Jarvis, ask Pepper to contact my stylist and that we’re going to need the full works. I’ll be in the workshop with the one-armed wonder.”

“Very good, sir.”

Bucky followed Tony into the workshop and immediately stopped, staring around the lab. He was gaping. He knew that things were pretty hi-tech these days, but this… this was beyond anything he’d seen yet. Even HYDRA, who had some pretty hi-tech things, didn’t have the same impact on him. But this… 

“You can have the tour later. Have a seat over here.”

Bucky shook his head and walked over to the seat Tony had indicated. There was a place to rest his metal arm. Bucky was prepared for Tony to start removing pieces of the arm, but instead he just placed a couple of metal discs at various spots on Bucky’s arm, then sat typing at his computer. Bucky craned his neck around to see what he was doing. “How are you doing that?”

“It’s complicated. Very sciencey,” Tony said, his concentration never wavering. 

“Try me,” Bucky countered.

Tony sighed and glanced at him. “Sensors. They’re scanning each layer of the arm and uploading the data directly to my computer. It’ll create a 3D image that I can use to study it from. It’s attached to your nerves, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, directly from my spine.” 

Soon Tony was done. He tapped a few more keys, then brought up a heads up display right in the air. Bucky stared at it a moment, then stood up and walked around it. He didn’t miss Tony’s smirk. “It’s not magic, grandpa.”

“No,” Bucky agreed. “Is it…” He sought for the word. “Interactive?”

Tony gave him an impressed look, then walked over. His hands flew, separating the layers of the digital concept for Bucky’s arms. “See? Told you it would be easy on you.” 

“Sir? Your stylist is here and ready.”

Bucky jumped a bit, forgetting about the computerized AI that seemed to be ever present in this tower.

“Great,” Tony said. “Well, let’s go make you look human,” he told Bucky.

 

Bucky thought the stylist was a little rude, but he couldn’t deny the results. The man was dressed gaudily in Bucky’s eyes, but despite that, he had a keen eye for what looked good. It probably helped that both Tony and Pepper were keeping an eye to make sure he didn’t do anything too outrageous. 

He started with Bucky’s hair. It was obvious the style would have to be easy to do with one hand. Bucky’s metal arm wasn’t made for precision, after all, and his hair could easily get caught between the finger plates if he wasn’t careful.

The stylist didn’t let Bucky see the new hairstyle at first. Instead, he rummaged through some clothes until he came up with an outfit that he felt would suit Bucky. He made Bucky change, then keep changing until he was satisfied. 

He finally agreed on the jeans (he called them skinny jeans, which meant little to Bucky except that there wasn’t much room to maneuver in them and they showed off stuff he wasn’t sure he wanted people to see), a white button down shirt, and a dark grey jean jacket with a hood.

Bucky glanced at Tony and Pepper, eyebrow raised questioningly. Pepper smiled while Tony just nodded appreciatively. “You look good,” Pepper assured him.

Bucky looked at the stylist who directed him to a full length mirror. With a sense of trepidation, Bucky looked at himself and was surprised by the sight.

He looked like an odd mix of his old self and new self, but it suited him well. his hair, shorter now, had been gelled up to add a bit of spike to it, without it becoming too overwhelming. The stylist explained how it could be done one handed and Bucky had to admit it was a pretty easy style. The clothes fit him as well. 

“Perfect,” he mumbled. “Thank you.”

The stylist brushed off his thanks and looked at Tony. Tony nodded. “Good work, as usual.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh, Extreme makeover, Bucky edition. Bucky's trying to find an identity for himself in his new life and I needed a bit of fun before the next chapter. 
> 
> As the Doctor said, "life is a mix of good things and bad things." (paraphrased)


	9. Chapter 9

When Bucky got home, Steve was there, pacing. He looked pretty banged up and Bucky could tell that he was here alone. Sam was gone. “Where were you,” Steve demanded, then stopped as he noticed Bucky’s new look. “Did you…”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got some nerve asking me where I was, punk. You left without telling me this morning. If you hadn’t left your phone, I wouldn’t have known you were off getting yourself into trouble. And yes. I got my hair cut.”

Steve took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “It looks good, but… why?”

“Because I felt like it. I was tired of looking like a pathetic stray mutt. So I asked Tony for help.”

“Tony?” Bucky didn’t miss the jealous tone in Steve’s voice and couldn’t help but feel both annoyed and a little morbidly gleeful at the same time.

“Yeah, Tony. Spent the whole day with him. He showed me his labs, introduced me to his stylist, everything.” Bucky could practically see the emotions behind Steve’s eyes. “Since you ditched me for Natasha, I figured I had the day free.”

Now there was hurt. Bucky almost felt bad… but not quite. “I didn’t ditch you…” Steve protested weakly.

“Well, you sure as hell didn’t invite me along.”

“Natasha doesn’t know you…”

“Oh, that’s our excuse now, is it? You wake up to a text from her and go running, without even bothering to tell me. I saw the texts. You didn’t even ask her what was wrong. She texted and you dropped everything.”

“I owe her,” Steve snapped. “I wouldn’t have found you again if it weren’t for her. And no, I wasn’t going to tell you where I was going because I thought you’d insist on coming along.”

“So what if I did? I could have watched your back.”

“I brought Sam for that. After yesterday…” Steve stopped, as if he’d said too much.

“What?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

Bucky stepped away, realisation dawning. “You don’t trust me.”

Steve opened his mouth to protest, reaching out for Bucky. Bucky slapped his hand away. “I’m right, aren’t I? You don’t trust me to watch your back. Do you think I’ll shoot you?”

“What? No, Don’t be ridiculous. After yesterday, I thought that a fight was the last thing you needed. If you had had an episode, I wouldn’t have been able to protect you.”

“I don’t need your protection, Rogers.”

“I’m just trying to be to you what you were to me. I want to take care of you.”

Bucky looked at him incredulously. “You’re treating me as if I was glass, Steve. I never treated you like that. Yeah, I took care of you, but I never acted like you couldn’t do something just because you were smaller than the other boys. At least I actually treated you like a normal human.”

That accusation seemed to take the wind out of Steve. He sat down heavily, but Bucky wasn’t done. He’d been feeling good earlier and he wasn’t sure where this outburst had come from, but he couldn’t stop now. Maybe it was just that everything that he’d kept bottled up for so long was finally coming to the surface.

“And look at you. You look like shit. You know what you are? A fucking hypocrite. You throw yourself into the line of fire. You always have. Hell, you straight up admitted it. You don’t want to lose me? Well guess what? I don’t want to lose you either. But I don’t stop you from fighting.”

Bucky stormed forward and grabbed Steve’s arm with his metal one, clamping down. His eyes were dangerous. “Do you want to get hurt? You used to be noble. I don’t know what you are anymore. No, I take that back. Controlling. That’s what you are.”

Bucky wasn’t prepared for the tears in Steve’s eyes as he looked up. “Yes,” he said simply and Bucky let go of his arm. 

“What?”

Steve stood up and faced him down. “I let you fall, Bucky. And I can’t forgive myself for that. So maybe I am looking for a bit of punishment.”

Bucky stared at him for a long moment. “You…”

“I what? Are you surprised to find out that I’m not all that noble after all? That I sometimes can’t even sleep at night because of what you went through? I told you before that I felt dead inside without you. You died because of me and look what happened. How am I not supposed to feel guilty about that. I look at you every day and all I can think of is how I should have never asked you to go back with me.” Steve looked away and Bucky stared at him in silence. “And I try every day to just act like nothing is different, and that you’re still my Bucky, but you keep changing…”

Bucky punched him. It was sudden and unexpected and Steve hit the floor hard. Bucky was on top of him in an instant. He was pinning Steve down, metal arm perilously close to Steve’s throat. “I’m not the same! Get that through your thick skull. I will never be the Bucky that you remember, just like you’re not the Steve I remember. People change, Rogers. You better learn to accept that.”

Steve didn’t say anything. He was helpless under Bucky. Bucky gave him a dangerous smile that didn’t reach his eyes. It was more reminiscent of the stone-cold killer than Bucky. “You want to get hurt, Rogers? Fine. I’ll hurt you.” When Steve tried to shift, Bucky slammed him back to the floor. He was surprised, and maybe a little scared, that he liked this, but it felt too late to back away now. “Is this what you want, Steve?”

Steve looked up at Bucky, and Bucky found himself lost in those eyes. A small smile played on Steve’s lips. “I think it is.”

They didn’t make it to the bedroom. Bucky was just glad that wherever Sam was, he was staying away. Bucky pulled Steve’s shirt off and used it to trap Steve’s hands. Steve’s pants went next and Bucky went down on him, bringing him close. He got up. “Stay there,” he growled.  
He disappeared into the bathroom, then came back with some supplies. Steve hadn’t moved and Bucky’s smile was more genuine. “If America could see their golden boy now. Everyone thinks you’re so innocent.”

“I never was.”

“Only we know just how true that was,” Bucky said, getting down on his hands and knees. He kissed Steve. “Now just lay there while I have my way with you.”

 

Bucky didn’t take it easy on Steve. He eventually did carry him back to the bedroom, on the off chance their roommate got back, and finished him off there. They went at it for most of the night before Steve was just too exhausted to continue. Even then, Bucky kept going. It was rough, and Steve would likely have bruises to show for it when he woke up.

When Bucky was done, he covered Steve up and let him pass out, then made his own way to the bathroom. He locked the door and filled the tub with cold water. Then he sat in it and started crying. Everything just felt so messed up. He knew - _knew_ \- that what he and Steve had wasn’t healthy. He loved the man with everything he had, but…

He held his breath and lay back until his head was submerged completely. He kept his eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. It was a bit like being back in cryo - peaceful and quiet. They’d always thought he wasn’t aware while in cryo and, for the most part, that was true. But there were moments when he could feel and what he had felt was a serenity.

But much like cryo, he couldn’t stay here forever. He broke the surface and caught his breath, returning to reality. His tears had stopped, but the pain that had brought them settled back, a heavy vice around his heart.

Bucky couldn’t stay here anymore. If he stayed, either he or Steve would get seriously hurt, and not just emotionally. He needed help. They both did, but Bucky had to focus on himself first. If he hurt Steve, he’d never be able to live with himself. 

He pulled himself out of the tub and dried himself off quickly. He would have to leave before Steve woke up. He’d leave a note and not take anything except what he was wearing and his wallet. He had no idea where to go, but if he didn’t take that step now, he never would. 

~~~

Steve woke up and saw the note on the table next to the bed. He groaned as he moved to sit up. He noticed more than one bruise. Smiling, he reached for the note. Within seconds, his smile faded. When Sam came in to check on him, he found Steve with his knees pulled into his chest. He wasn’t crying, but Sam could see the range of emotions on his face.

“What is it?”

“Bucky left.” Steve handed him the note. Sam read it quietly, then folded it up and handed it back.

“It doesn’t say he won’t be back. If he’s gone to look for a therapist, then that’s a good thing.”

“I don’t understand why he couldn’t stay here while looking.”

Sam reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “Only he could tell you that. Do you want to go look for him?”

Steve looked at Sam for the first time, and saw the concern in his friend’s eyes. He took a deep breath and unfolded himself. “No. I wanted to save him, the way I couldn’t before, but I don’t think that’s what he needed. I haven’t been able to see anything but him these past few weeks. If this is what it takes for him to get better, then I owe him that.” He wasn’t happy about it, but he didn’t have a choice.

“Okay. Come on. Get dressed and we’ll go get some breakfast.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhhhh, one more chapter left. I almost decided to end the fic here, but it's only fair I follow up with what happened to Bucky after he leaves.


	10. Chapter 10

~Three months later~

“You’ve made a lot of progress, James. I see you had your arm repainted.”

Out of habit, Bucky glanced to the star on his left arm. The old red star was no longer there, replaced by a design of Steve’s shield. He’d just had it repainted yesterday. “Well, you were right. I needed to remind myself of why I was fighting.” The last few months had been the hardest he’d had in a long time and he still had a few scars to from it, though they would soon vanish.

He glanced back at the therapist, a young woman who had once worked as a psychologist for S.H.I.E.L.D. She’d been screened by Tony personally, which was where Bucky had ended up a few weeks after he’d left Steve’s apartment. She was good, never blaming him, never pushing, just listening.

Of course he’d been slow to talk at first, but after a while, he started telling her everything. The headaches were mostly gone by now, and just sitting and talking about anything that came to mind helped the memories unravel more than anything he’d tried before.

“Good. You’re going to see him today, right?”

Bucky nodded. “After our session.”

“How are you feeling?”

He shifted in his seat. “Nervous. Scared. I didn’t exactly say goodbye.”

“It’s okay to feel scared. I don’t even know what he’s been doing for the past three months. I just know he’s safe.”

“That’s important to you.”

“Always has been, ever since I saved him from bullies in an alley.”

“Well, you’ve come a long way in these three months. This first meeting doesn’t have to be perfect. Just take it slow. Relearn what each other is like. It won’t happen right away, and you shouldn’t force it. And think positive about yourself.”

“I will. I’ll see you in two weeks.”

She smiled and nodded.

Bucky grabbed his coat and stepped out into the crisp fall air, breathing it in. She was right, he had accomplished a lot. When he’d first left the apartment, he’d lived on the streets and in shelters. He’d gotten into a couple of fights, hence the scars. The final straw had been the man he’d almost killed. He hadn’t cared about beating the guy up - he was attacking a woman at the time - but Bucky had never wanted to injure the guy that badly. After that was when he showed up at Tony’s home, practically begging for help.

Tugging at his collar, Bucky took a nervous breath. He was eager to see Steve, but there was a knot of tension in his stomach as well. Had Steve forgiven his hasty departure? Tony said he had, but there could really only be one way to know for sure.

They had arranged to meet somewhere neutral and public. It would prevent them from getting too heated and that’s what Bucky needed.

Bucky walked over to his new bike and touched it. It was an older style - a junkyard bike - but he’d fixed it up himself, with a little help from Tony. It had been fun, actually, and he’d found he loved working on it. 

_”We should get a couple of bikes. Ride around, see other places. It’d be fun.”_

_Bucky looked at Steve. “Motorcycles are expensive, Steve. We can barely afford this apartment and feed ourselves.”_

_“So we buy one from the junkyard. Fix it up. You could do that easily. You always had a knack for fixing things. Don’t really need two bikes.”_

_Bucky knew that even that might be more than they could afford, but he didn’t say that. “All right. We’ll put a bit of money aside. Not too much. I’m not having you starve on me. And I’ll check out the local junkyards. See if there’s anything worth wasting our time on.”_

Bucky smiled as he remembered that conversation. They’d never been able to do that. He wondered if Steve would remember. 

He got on, knowing he couldn’t procrastinate any longer, and rode out to meet up with Steve.

 

Bucky wasn’t the only one with butterflies in his stomach. Steve had arrived at the restaurant about thirty minutes early, choosing to sit outside on the patio. The first month, he’d been filled with worry. Could he have done something differently? There had been so many could haves and what ifs. After he found out that Bucky had ended up back at Tony’s tower, the worry had subsided.

Nobody would tell him what Bucky was doing, just that he was safe and healing, but that was enough for Steve. As long as Bucky was happy, Steve could go on, knowing that eventually Bucky would be whole.

He looked up at the sound of a motorcycle. The bike was rustic and antique. Anyone else would have called it scrap metal, but Steve could tell that it was put together well. If the paint job left much to be desired, the engine ran smooth and the rider maneuvered it with ease.

Steve then looked at the rider and stood up. “Bucky.” His own voice sounded odd in his ears.

He watched as Bucky parked the bike next to his, then came over with a smile. “Hello.”

“Hi. Uh, I got us a table. Is outside okay?”

“Outside is fine.” Bucky didn’t bother using the doors. He leapt over the short railing with ease. They both hesitated, then Bucky reached over and hugged Steve. Steve hugged him back.

“I missed you.”

“Same.”

They both took a seat and Bucky looked at the menu.

“Nice bike,” Steve ventured. 

Bucky grinned. “Found it at the junkyard and fixed it up. Like I told you I would.”

Steve grinned back. “I remember that. We were going to go places.”

“Now we can.”

That took Steve by surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. I want to see the world properly. With you.”

Steve’s smile widened. “Me too.”


End file.
